


The One In Which Jon Is A Matchmaker

by softlyforgotten



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco, The Young Veins
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-23
Updated: 2009-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-22 23:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyforgotten/pseuds/softlyforgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baristas actually do have magical powers, don'tcha know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One In Which Jon Is A Matchmaker

The first time it is ridiculously easy.

William would probably expect him to tell it with a bit of flair, drama rising a gloriously unsubtle head to begin with: Once Upon A Time there were Two Young Men, Both Pretty, But One Rather More So, and they were the Best of Friends—

(and here, Jon would probably interrupt: _that’s a bit exclusive, isn’t it? What about Tommy and Mike and the rest of the guys? We can’t leave them out._

And William would rattle off a few sentences about dramatic license and the rest before shushing Jon and settling back into storyteller mode, his default position being hands gesticulating wildly and eyes somewhat crazy as he leaned closer and closer:)

—but one of them, the Prettier One, was Sad and Lonely. The other wasn’t so Sad because of the fact that he was Impervious to Many Things, including Loneliness—

( _meaning_ , Jon would butt in gleefully, _that I don’t feel the need to sleep with someone new every week._

 _Who’s telling the story, Jonny Walker?_ )

—but the Other was, as has been said, Sad. And his Friend, despite being Impervious—

( _Seriously, Bill, is that word of the day?_ )

—to Many Things, did not like to see the Pretty One in Distress. So! He used his Incredible and Awe Inducing Skills—

( _I do make a pretty good vanilla cappuccino,_ Jon would say modestly. At this stage, William would get bored and say _and they all lived happily ever after_ in a rush and then drag Sisky off to dance with him. Jon would smirk contentedly from his place at the bar, because—)

The first time _really was_ ridiculously easy. It had been impossible _not_ to notice the guy when he first leaned against the counter and demanded the only drink on the menu that nobody _ever_ seemed to order, made a weird clawing symbol with his fingers when he took it, and then stopped by after he’d finished on his way out to say “dude, that was awesome, I kind of want to lock you up and force you to make me it all the time.”

Jon had said, “Uh, thanks,” and forgotten about him, until the next time he came in. This time he leaned on the counter and talked for half an hour, apparently unconcerned by Jon serving other customers while answering his increasingly weirder remarks, and somewhere along the way, Jon doesn’t remember exactly how, he mentioned being single.

Jon is not normally struck by odd impulses, but instead of being wary he finds himself telling the guy (Gabe, his name is apparently) about a party he’s going to tonight, and does he maybe want to come along? Gabe looks genuinely pleased when he accepts, and from there, it’s a simple enough matter to introduce him to Bill.

Nevertheless, William has decided it is a fairytale, and Jon has been cast as the fairy godmother. Incidentally, he is informed this as William dances off three weeks later, one arm slung around Gabe’s shoulders, who is whispering something in William’s ear. William looks for a moment as though Santa has just informed him that he’s decided to make it Christmas and William’s birthday for a week every month, and then he turns his head enough to shout out about Jon’s new magical powers.

Jon is talking to Tom, and he makes the mistake of not thinking much about magical powers at all. For a while, anyway.

*

Then again, maybe it was a _good_ thing that he didn’t think about it, because he might have been on the look-out after that and then, as William informed him, he might have ruined everything by using his Powers too _deliberately_. As it was, he wasn’t really thinking when he smiled at Patrick and ordered a flat white without asking (Patrick’s a regular – he comes by every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, as well as irregularly on weekends). Patrick shuffles off with an absent smile that lets Jon know he’s distracted by whatever melody he’s humming lightly under his breath, and Jon turns to the next guy in the line – a short, scruffy man wearing tight, girls jeans and eyeliner and a scowl that stops just short of making his face less boyish.

He stops glaring when he steps up to the counter which makes Jon think it’s more of a facial effect than a bad mood (like most of his odd bits of knowledge that drift around in his brain, it can be explained by the phrase _William went through a stage, once_ ), and his grin is surprisingly goofy. “Dude, did you see what that guy was wearing?” he laughs far too loudly. “Sandals and socks, oh my God.”

Jon cringed; the guy’s voice carried easily through the room and Patrick’s head jerked up, looking half-astounded, half-affronted. “Um,” he said, and Patrick rose stiffly to his feet and stalked out.

To Jon’s surprise, the guy did actually look regretful. “Oops,” he said, and then chewed his lip. “You know, I might just go after him and – yeah.” He made a skating action with his hand and followed Patrick out, grabbing his drink on the way. Jon blinked, and turned to the next customer.

Only a few days later Patrick reappeared and a few minutes later, the guy – Pete – turned up as well. Patrick was glaring, but Pete either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He went to sit across from him and chattered away, apparently unconcerned by Patrick’s steady scowl. At the counter, Jon bit back an urge to laugh.

The next day, Patrick leaned across the counter and said, in a low voice, “Jon, Jon you’ve got to help me – that Pete guy, he’s crazy! He keeps taking about, about Transforms, and asking me to burn all my sandals! I don’t know how to get rid of him!”

Jon opens his mouth, but Pete – who seems to have an innate sense of timing – hurls himself through the doorway and swings his arms around Patrick’s neck. “Trick, man! Imagine seeing you here! Now we can go to your place and I can help you pick an outfit out before the show!” Jon thinks that Pete’s laughter is the closest thing to cackling he’s heard in a long while.

Jon raises his eyebrows, and Patrick says, grudgingly, “He has okay taste in music.” They take their coffees and go, and Jon watches the way Patrick smiles (accidentally, Jon’s sure) at something Pete says, his whole face lighting up.

Jon says, “Hmmn,” and isn’t surprised when, the next time he sees them, Pete rockets in to press a quick, fumbling kiss against the corner of Patrick’s mouth, and Patrick doesn’t lean away, only smiles again.

*

It gets simpler, but not easier: Ray and Bob need extensive coaxing and several well-meaning lies told for them before Bob even goes _near_ Ray’s table. Then again, the day he first hears Ray stumble out something that comes close to a coherent sentence as to whether Bob would like to go out sometime is one that ends up with extensive celebrating with Bill and Co., which Jon is always happy to accept as a good thing.

Likewise, Mikey and Alicia dance around each other with awkward glances and bitten nails. Alicia gets increasingly frustrated (although not frustrated enough, clearly, to summon the courage to go over and just ask him out) until she and Jon hit on the perfect plan. It goes through flawlessly: Alicia leans towards Jon and adjusts his collar with a lingering touch, announcing something (maybe just a _little_ too loudly to be completely believable) about what a lovely guy he is, and Mikey marches straight up and asks if she wants to see a movie tonight.

Comparatively, Chris, Greta and Darren are a delight; Jon watches them enough to be torn between feeling warm and fuzzy every time they smile or finish each other’s sentences, or being horribly sad every time their fingers stop just short of touching each other. In the end, though, he chats to Greta about an article he read about a guy who had two wives in San Francisco, and they all got on really well. Greta leaves with a purposeful look in her eyes and when they return, Chris and Darren flank her on either side like always, but behind her back they clasp hands, the weight of their intertwined fingers resting deliberately against her lower back.

Frankie and Gee are a _laugh_ ; Jon watches them for weeks and finally, on one of their bad days when Gerard storms out and Frank sits there and looks stony, Jon leans over and says, “Dude, why don’t you just go and _kiss_ him already?”

Astonishingly, Frank follows Gerard out and does just that.

Jon likes this, the subtle ways he’s learning to make people notice each other, or at least admit they notice each other. He doesn’t think it’s because he himself is Impervious to Loneliness or anything William-like like that, he just likes seeing people happy.

Sometimes, he figures it can be just that simple.

*

He very nearly rolls his eyes when his next “clients” (as Bill has taken to calling them) arrive. It’s three guys, one who would be of the slightly emo variety were it not for the velvet red vest with roses sewn on that he’s wearing, one practically _bouncing_ with barely containable energy, and one standing back a little with amused eyes (and oh my God, Jon thinks, his _mouth_ ).

The two in front are bickering loudly about what movie the three of them should go to tonight, but also appear to be holding hands. This is all made somewhat more amusing by the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day.

They order three hot chocolates and four chocolate croissants (the one standing at the back sighs _Brendon_ , but the bouncy one looks unrepentant), and Jon tells them there’s a special for couples today. Brendon looks delight and plants a loud, wet kiss on the vest guy’s mouth, who also groans, “ _Brendon_ ,” but his mouth twitches, like he’s trying to smile.

“Well, two with the couple special, then,” the guy at the back says, and Brendon leans over the counter and tells Jon that Spencer is _all alone_ so maybe he should get an extra croissant so he doesn’t feel so lonely? And then Brendon can share it with him and it will be just like _they’re_ in a relationship, except don’t worry, Ryan, Brendon will always love you best! Ryan and Spencer look long-suffering.

But Jon grins and finds himself ignoring the rest of the customers and bending over the little brown cup holder things to help Brendon decorate Spencer’s extensively with hearts and stars and something that at first glance Jon thinks is a drunk hippo attempting to stand up but Brendon informs him is Jasmine from Aladdin. And then the coffees and croissants are finished and Brendon and Ryan take them off to a table while Spencer pays. He says, “Sorry about that,” and smiles warmly at Jon, and Jon’s stomach flips a little when he says “Dude, it’s cool,” and hands Spencer his change.

He finds himself hoping they’ll come again.

*

And they do – minus Ryan, this time, and Brendon hangs as easily off Spencer’s shoulders as he did Ryan’s (although, Jon notices, a little more obviously, in a way; with Ryan he was softer, and he smiled just a little brighter). Brendon tells Jon that Ryan is off sulking because he and Spencer won and they get to watch _Beauty and the Beast_ tonight instead of _Moulin Rouge_ , but Spencer says, “Yeah, either that or he’s studying for that exam tomorrow,” and grins at Jon. Jon thinks that his smile, soft and almost sly, reminds him a bit of Bob, Greta’s friend, and his mind is racing.

Bob doesn’t come in that time, to Jon’s regret, because Bob’s usually there every day, but he is the next time, and Jon manages to get one of his friends to pass by and knock Spencer and Bob off balance so they bump into each other. Spencer says, “Oh, sorry,” and Bob grins cheerfully in response, and Jon holds his breath, and waits, but there is no startled glance or brushing of fingers. He wonders if maybe this will have to be one of those romances that sneaks up on you, like Greta and Chris and Darren. His chest feels oddly tight, but he puts that down to the disappointment.

From there, he does everything he can to throw Spencer and Bob together; he waits for busy days and then suggests that Spencer goes to sit next to Bob (Spencer bites his lip and looks down, says, “Nah, I’ll just have it to go,”), he makes loud remarks about bands he knows they both like but a conversation fails to spring out of them both agreeing – he even accidentally mixes up their orders so that they have to swap, for God’s sake! Jon really doesn’t know where he’s going wrong with these two, because it’s not like Spencer is hard to get on with – he leans over the counter and talks to Jon all the _time_ , and he has this amazing smile that he gives you that makes you feel like it’s the only one of its kind – but he seems to not notice Bob at all.

William eyes the process from a corner one afternoon and says that maybe he’s trying a little bit too hard, and besides, he doesn’t really think Bob looks like Spencer’s type? Jon snorts and tells him that _he’s_ the Fairy Godmother here, remember? But William looks thoughtful and then gasps and asks Jon whether he’s using his Powers for Bad, and Jon decides the conversation is over.

The trouble is, he feels really quite sad about it, which isn’t usual. Most of the time when two people are taking too long to get together he’ll just get more inventive, but he’s slow to think of ideas (and they come almost reluctantly, though he can’t think why) and when he chats to Spencer he keeps getting too distracted to mention Bob that often, which is a waste of conversation, he’s sure.

Maybe, he thinks miserably, his powers are gone! Maybe they’ll never come back! And then he realises that he sounds like William, so he throws the brakes on that particular train of thought.

And then one day, he’s walking out from work to find Spencer leaning against the wall. He ducks his head and is about to walk past when Spencer says, “Hey.”

He turns around and can’t help but smile. “Hi.”

They survey each other for a moment and then Spencer says, abruptly, “Want to go get something to eat?”

Jon says, “sure,” before he can think to say – oh, there’s a guy in there called Bob and he looked pretty hungry! Which is maybe a good thing, because that wouldn’t exactly have been his most subtle of manoeuvres.

They end up in a fast food place with buckets of chips. Jon is a little bit tongue-tied, but Spencer talks enough for both of them, funny, sharp remarks about the other people in here, or discussions about movies and TV shows they both like (Spencer groans when Jon mentions The OC – “I swear to God I loved that show until Brendon refused to shut up about it,”). Jon thinks that Spencer would be the perfect date, really – for Bob, of course. Um.

Finally, they leave, and they’re out walking in the vague direction of Jon’s house when Spencer says, “So?”

“So what?” Jon replies, easily.

Spencer makes a sad little sigh. “I think William was leading me on.”

“Um,” Jon says, and then his mind catches up with his ears and he says, “Wait, what?”

“William said that you had Match Making Powers. And so I thought, dude, he’ll be awesome for me! But I’m still single, see, so I think William was lying.”

“You know William?” Jon says, startled.

Spencer nods. “But I think he was obviously exaggerating your skills a fair bit. I mean, I think you’re trying to get me with that Bob guy?”

“I am not!” Jon protests. His number one rule is never to let his clients know what’s going on. Oh God, he really is starting to sound like William.

“Well, then you have a weird fixation with him, because what’s with the whole having conversations and then randomly blurting out ‘look, there’s Bob!’?” Jon is silent, and Spencer laughs. “I’m really not interested. Sorry.”

“So, you wanted to go out tonight to tell me to stop bothering you?” Jon mumbles, and maybe his voice is a little bit _too_ despondent.

“No,” Spencer says. “Actually, I was kind of hoping you’d have stepped in and saved me by now. But maybe not?”

“Er, what?” Jon asks. He’s really lost by now.

“It’s just I’m really, really hopeless about this,” Spencer says, and then he stops and angles himself around and kisses Jon, lips very, very soft on his, under the streetlamp. Jon lets out a breath and Spencer moves to break away, but Jon practically grabs him and pulls him closer. Spencer lets out a small sound and burrows closer, nibbling at Jon’s lip, and why did Jon not do this earlier? This is a very, very good idea.

They break away and Spencer says, breathlessly, “Yeah, see? I had to do all the work, you asshole. I thought if you were such an awesome matchmaker—” But he starts laughing, and Jon grabs his hand and swings it as they keep walking.

“So,” Jon says, lightly. “I know this really great guy, you’d love him.”

Spencer says, “Oh?” And when he looks away, he’s still smiling.


End file.
